She's From Boston
by Sassysazzles
Summary: Inspired by the song "She's from Boston", a CS Modern!AU: For Killian Jones, escaping to a tropical island was just what he needs to heal old wounds. However, the girl he meets from Boston, well, she's probably just what he needs too.


**Author's Note: This has been a story floating in my head for a while. Just wanted to get it out into the world! (An edited version may replace this one at some point... ). I wanted to start something pre-hiatus and before it gets too cold here, so here is story that I hope will get ME through the hiatus and the winter.**

* * *

Life at sea calmed the soul. No one to answer to… just endless blue, salty sea air, and his thoughts. Pulling into the crystal clear harbor as the sun began to set, casting a warm glow, Killian Jones let out a sigh of relief. It calmed the soul, but it was time to return to civilization… or at least a land mass.

Dropping anchor at a numbered blue buoy, he radioed into the port, and gave them his boat and customs information, before taking a seat at the helm. The crystal blue water twinkled back at him, and he felt relieved. It was a long trip down the east coast, but the warm salty air and sea breeze wrapped around him like a blanket, and he knew that this was the smartest thing he had done in a while. Six months in the islands was just what he needed, and mooring up in the bay was a plan a year in the making. He felt accomplished, he felt satisfied… and he felt hungry. His stomach let out a loud grumble, knocking Killian from his daydreams.

Sweat still clung to his skin, and he certainly needed to clean himself up before making the necessary errand runs, but he couldn't be bothered. He needed a drink, he needed food, and he needed to see someone other than the occasional seagull.

Ducking below deck for a quick change of clothes, he emerged slightly more presentable. Days old scruff had turned into a beard, and his hair had gotten shaggy, but he hoped it made him look distinguished, and not homeless. Slipping off his boat shoes, and donning a well-worn pair of flip-flops, he headed towards the stern of the boat, and lowered a small dingy into the water. Clamoring aboard from the decks of his sailboat, he made the short paddle to land, rowing slowly and regretting the decision to buy a dingy without a motor. He has been in the Caribbean sun all day, actively sailing, and he muscles ached and protested with each pull on the oars The boat edge knocked softly against the small dock a few minutes later, and Killian leapt to the wooden platform, and swiftly tied the small vessel to a cleat, before walking the plank up to the streets of town. The town was bustling, and people were huddled up at bars, sipping tropical drinks on patios, and listening to the reggae music that pumped out of each little establishment.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Killian took off down the streets, until he found a bar that looked a little more his speed, that was a few blocks off the beaten path. This was a getaway, but he wanted to avoid tourist traps if at all possible, and this one seemed middle of the road.

The bar was a bit quieter, but a group of what appeared to be rowdy, college age boys had taken up residence at one end of the bar, so Killian strode to the other. The bartender was leaning over the bar, clearly flirting with the group of boys, her blonde ponytail bouncing animatedly as she chatted.

Sliding onto a bar stool, he took a look at the small plastic menu sign on the bar. He chuckled at the simplicity of it:

 **Welcome to Gran's**

 **Beer-$**

 **Rum-$$**

 **Water-(get out)**

"Hey sailor, what can I get you?" a voice came from across the bar and Killian's eyes shot up from the menu to lock eyes with sparkling green ones.

"Uh…." His voice trailed off as he cleared his throat, and blushed a little. The woman in front of him was gorgeous, blonde hair falling from her ponytail across forehead. Her skin was tan all over, and her tank top was tight and low. Killian's eyes drifted down, following a chain that disappeared below the low neckline. The woman giggled, and leaned forward on her elbows, pulling the chain out from her cleavage and twirling it around her fingers, mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"Cat got your tongue?" she smiled again, and he shook his head, shaking himself from his thoughts, and scratched nervously behind his ear. "Apologies lass, I've um…I've been at sea a while. Forgot my manners."

"Ah," she smiled at him, "You _are_ a sailor then. Where did you cruise in from?"

"Maine," he chuckled a little, and as she reached down to grab a bottle from the shelving below, and brought it to the bar.

"Well then sir, first one's on me!" She poured two shot glasses full of generic rum, and held one out to him, "Welcome to the Islands!" She clinked glasses with him, before they both threw their heads back and let the warm liquid slide down their throats.

Killian watched as the blonde's tongue came out to catch a little drop of rum on her lower lip, and he all but groaned. Maybe spending all that along time on a boat was a bad idea after all. No woman should have this effect on him. She smiled at him, and cracked open a beer, placing it in front of him. "Let me know if you need anything else tonight sailor," she said with a wink, and went back to her patrons on the other side of the bar. Killian took a hard swig of his beer, and shook his head again. His eyes slid back over to the group of guys that she clearly had wrapped around her finger. They made puppy dog eyes at her to take shots with them, and kept dropping money onto the bar like it was nothing. The woman just smiled, and as she filled up their shot glasses with rum, he noticed that she used a different bottle with hers. Killian nursed a beer and observed, and as they got increasingly intoxicated, the bartender stayed perky and alert.

She sauntered back over to him a bit later, looking a little exasperated, but still smiling. "Can I get you anything else? Another beer?" she asked him.

"That would be great. Tell me love, if I were to buy you a shot, would you be drinking rum or water?" he asked with a grin, gesturing over to the group of boys, now almost too rowdy.

She smiled at him, knowing he had figured out that she wasn't actually taking shots of alcohol, but then her smile turned to a smirk, "Why I'd love to have a drink with you. I get out of here in fifteen, and I know a better place than this if your interested?" She spoke with confidence and it was a almost worded as a challenge. Killian quirked an eyebrow at her, "I'd love nothing more." Both of them held their small, sarcastic smiled at each other, before Emma's eyes trailed down his chest a little, before biting her lower lip, and placing a beer in front of him.

"Drink up," she said, before walking back over to the boys, and corralling them into paying their tab. Fifteen minutes later on the dot, the woman slid onto a barstool next to Killian, and slipped off her tennis shoes to slide into her own pair of well worn flip-flops. "Come on sailor," she linked arms with him, and they walked down the streets in the warm night air, towards a local establishment she had said was far better with their rum selection.

"So what's your name? Or should I call you Captain?" she asked, pulling her arm from his and tucking her fingers into her belt loops. "Killian Jones, at your service," he told her with a grin, and a little bow in the streets. She raised her eyebrows at the gesture, before letting out a small laugh. "I'm Emma, but everyone calls me Swan," she held out a hand for a shake, and Killian leaned forward and planted a kiss on it, his beard tickling her skin.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance _Swan_ ," he spoke, rubbing his hand over the long scruff on his face, and wishing he had taken the time to get a bit more cleaned up. "I have to say, you're a sight for sore eyes."

Emma smiled at him flirtatiously, before gesturing to a small door. Killian held it open for her, following her in and up some stairs. They came out on a small rooftop bar, with a much more laid-back atmosphere that most of the rest of the places on the main drag lacked. Emma took a seat in the corner of the bar, at a small table, and he took a seat next to her. "So, what can I get you?" Emma asked Killian, and Killian frowned, "I believe I said I was taking you out for a drink, no?"

"First one's on me. I'm assuming you're good with rum?" she asked and he chuckled, "You have no idea love." Her smile widened, and she sprang from the table to the bar. A blonde, spikey hair bartender came over to her a few minutes later.

"Another tourist Swan? Really?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"Let me have my fun Whale. Besides, don't be jealous that I get dates, and girls are repelled from you because of that hair. It's not 1999 anymore, frosted tips are out," Emma quipped back, to the bartenders un-amused face. "I try something new one time," he mumbled, heading to a small pantry, and unlocking it, removing a bottle and bringing it back over to her.

Emma smiled brightly back at him, before snatching the bottle away, and leaning over the bar to get two glasses. "Jesus Swan, I can hand you glasses. You don't own this place," he grumbled, and she stuck her tongue out at him before heading back to the table.

"Friend of yours?" Killian asked, and Emma rolled her eyes. "He's in my friend circle here, yeah. His name is Whale… he owns the place, which is part of the reason he's even in my friend circle. It's one of the best places to hang out on the island. But, you know, he also lets me keep my rum here, so he's a good guy in my book."

"With some horrible fashion sense," Killian added, and Emma laughed. "That is so true Jones," she laughed again, and poured them both glasses of rum.

"What should we cheers to?" Killian asked, and Emma pursed her lips, thinking for a second, before answering, "New friends, handsome strangers and late night drinks." Killian nodded and clicked glasses with hers, before taking a sip of the dark brown liquor.

"This is heavenly lass," Killian closed his eyes, and let the rum sink down his throat and meld into his senses.

Rum was such a wonderful drink. It had the ability to ground you in the familiar, and take you to far off places. It was everything wonderful about the Caribbean wrapped up in a happy buzz and a quick burn. His eyes opened slowly to meet her amused face. "Thought you'd like it," she almost purred at him, taking another sip.

"So, what brings you down here Mr. Jones," Emma asked, and Killian ducked his head slightly, before scratching behind his ear awkwardly. Emma paused, before changing the subject, "You don't have to answer that. Everyone is running from something."

He nodded at her in appreciation, and she leaned back in the chair, propping her feet up on the edge of the table. Whale scowled at her from across the bar, and she shot him an obscene hand gesture. Killian laughed, before taking another sip, and letting his eyes drift up her tan legs. He swallowed again. He had definitely been at sea too long. Far too long.

A smile bloomed on Emma's face, and she bit her bottom lip at the thought of more than just his eyes on her. Killian shook his head again, clearly shaking himself out of his own thoughts. "Let's play a game," Emma said suddenly, and Killian raised his eyebrows at her.

Emma grabbed her drink, tucked the rum bottle under her arm, and yanked Killian to his feet with her free hand. He almost collided with her, caught himself and her with a quick arm around her back. They stood almost nose and nose, and Emma could smell the salt air on his skin, and the spice of rum on his breath.

"Ah…um…" Killian started, before Emma laughed again, linking her fingers playfully with his and dragging him over to a lone, old dartboard on the wall. "You play?" she asked, plucking three old darts from the worn cork. Killian licked his bottom lip and chuckled, "Do I play? Well… let's find out shall we?"

Emma's smiled curled on the edges, and she walked over to him with a sway to her hips. "Maybe we should raise the stakes… how about a little gamble?"

Killian rolled his head, tucking his tongue into his cheek playfully, "Alright lass, what do you suggest?"

"Loser buys the next round," she grinned, and he shook his head. "Ah but lass you forgot, I already have the next round. Try again…"

Emma playfully twisted the cap of her bottle of rum, and poured a bit more in her glass, before offering it to Killian, who happily let her tip the bottle into his glass.

"How about we play blackjack? Well, darts blackjack. Goal is to get the closest to 21," Killian proposed. Emma smiled, "Ok, and the loser each round takes a shot?"

Killian laughed, "Alright… prepare to be thoroughly hung-over tomorrow Miss Swan."

* * *

The rocking of his ship was one of the few things in life that brought Killian absolute joy. Simple, soothing rocking… it coaxed him to sleep at night. It woke him gently in the morning.

This morning, the ship be damned, it was going to be the death of him. The floor rocked and rolled under his back, and Killian groaned, pulling a pillow over his eyes to shade them from the blaring sun. The boat was quiet, abet for a consisting sipping sound. No AC running. He groaned again… his clothes were wet with sweat, clinging to his skin, and the sheets. The sipping sound continued…what was it? A leak? That would be not good. Killian groaned yet a third time, throwing the pillow off of his face and sitting up quickly to investigate the noise. A very perky Emma Swan was perched cross-legged on his kitchen counter, sipping coffee.

"Bloody hell, what are you… did we?" Killian asked, memory foggy. Emma laughed, jumping off the counter and bringing him a cup of coffee. She ruffled his hair affectionately, and laughed again as he winced at the contact.

"Alas, no… I don't sleep with unconscious captains, no matter how devilishly handsome they are," she quipped, taking her perch again and watching as Killian rolled his eyes at himself and slumped back against his pillow.

"I take it I lost at darts then?" Killian questioned, and Emma looked at him with assurance. "Oh yes sir, you most certainly did. And I can say for someone that has been at sea for a while, you sure didn't handle that rum too well."

Killian buried his head in his hands, "My apologies lass, I didn't… I just…." Emma waved his apology off, and took another sip of her coffee.

"I decided to come over here and see how you were fairing this morning, and also to see if you had any sugar, which I found out, you do indeed. And cinnamon, which was also a pleasant surprise," she informed him, and he cocked an eyebrow, looking at her inquisitively.

"You came over? How…I live on a boat," Killian started, and Emma jumped down from the counter and headed for the door, patting him on the cheek on her way out.

"I know," she grinned, "I'm your neighbor on the next boat over."


End file.
